


Switching Buses

by Slytheringirle



Series: Just A Little Something [4]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enjolras is 16, Grantaire is 17, M/M, Their school contains, and secondary, primary, so they all take the bus, the driving age is 18, they're in france
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-02 14:37:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19200886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slytheringirle/pseuds/Slytheringirle
Summary: “So, I was wondering if you want to grab some coffee tomorrow? There is this good place that I know. ThoughIunderstandifyoucan’t,” he rushed. “It’s oka-““I’m free tomorrow,” he said, cutting the blond short, “eight p.m?”





	Switching Buses

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically a copy paste of what happened on Thursday -excpet for the last scene, and I don't have a crush on anyone-, so if anyone from the bus -or my friend- reads this, then I'm screwed.  
> .  
> And I wanna thank my [beta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EspejoNight28738) for editing this, all mistakes are mine!

“I don’t see why you have to be eighteen to drive in Europe,” complained Joly as he stood next to Grantaire, both of them leaning against the parking lot's wall.

School had just ended, and they were hanging around in the parking lot, waiting for the last minute before going to their buses. It was a routine of sorts; everyday, when school ends, they’d stand together and complain about how it was unfair that the driving age was eighteen in Europe. “We can run away to America,” suggested Grantaire. “There we can get a driving license and not spend the whole school day worrying about the wretched thirty minutes we’ll have to spend in the bus at the end of the day.”

While Grantaire always complained about the bus, he secretly loved it. Though that was mostly due to the blond curled angel that sat beside him. He sat at the back of the bus, meaning that four people could comfortably fit beside him. He had moved houses at the beginning of the year and the bus was simultaneously changed. Being the new kid in an already full bus, he ended up sitting at the back, where an avenging angel and his two best friends happened to sit.

They didn’t pay him any mind at the beginning, though they were polite. But once the blond -Enjolras- was talking about the abortion ban with his friends, and Combeferre -one of the two best friends- had asked him about his opinion. They had then gotten into a debate that had ended with them exchanging their social media accounts in order to continue at home.

“How will we buy a car though?” Grumbled Joly, as though they had a chance of surviving there for twenty-four hours.

“Thievery, my dear friend, thievery.”

Enjolras had added a friend of his to the chat to side with him because he, Combeferre and Courfeyrac -the other best friend- were all against the ban. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had ended up abandoning him, leaving him to argue with Enjolras and Feuilly alone. Courfeyrac came and went at various points through the chat, and that was always to only shout and swear at Enjolras. At the end, they’d decided to call it a day because they weren’t getting anywhere, both sides kept coming up with arguments that countered the others’. The next day, however, Enjolras had told him that he’d been good, and had even repeated it. He’d shrugged the compliment off, but had been secretly pleased.

Joly snorted. “And how are you planning on stealing a car when you don’t know how to drive?”

“Well,” he turned to look at him, adopting the air of someone talking to a child. “We can first learn to drive, and then, steal a car.”

“And how are you planning on learning to drive without money?”

“We can ask our parents for some,” he said with a shrug.

“Then why don’t we just ask them to buy us cars?”

 Grantaire rolled his eyes.. “I have to go,” he said, straightening up. “See you tomorrow?”

“What? Can’t come back with an argument?” Teased Joly, but he patted him on the back all the same. “See you,” he said before turning to walk to his bus.

He turned to go to his own bus, hurrying slightly when seeing the parking lot was almost empty and that the buses were starting to leave. In his hurry to get to the bus, he skipped it and had to retrace his steps.

“You’re late,” said the teacher the moment he got onto the bus.

He ignored her, as he always did. What was she gonna do? He’s been late all year, if she was going to do something then she would’ve done it by now.

He greeted some kids as he made his way down the aisle, but stopped in his tracks when he saw that his usual seat has been taken. Now that he was actually looking, the bus was overflowing with students. Students that weren’t usually with them. He wanted to kill the kid sitting in his seat, he spends the whole day looking forward to the ride home because he gets to sit beside Enjolras, and now this kid is sitting in his place? But he had to play it cool, so he just opened the middle seat but it didn’t look like it could take his weight, so he turned to the kid in his seat.

“Adam, do you mind sitting here?”

“Yes!” Said Combeferre -apparently relieved-, who was sitting beside him, “you can come back later.”

Adam took his bag and got up, giving him some space to squeeze past him before sitting in the chair.

“Courfeyrac, Savanna, and Adam,” cried the black haired teacher at the front of the bus. “Come to the front.”

“What’s going on?” He asked Combeferre as the students scrambled to their feet.

However, it was Enjolras who answered. He had gotten up to allow Courfeyrac and Savanna to go out. “Some genius decided to merge to buses. Can’t they see there is no place?”

He made an attempt to reclaim his seat, but two students came from the front. “The teacher told us to sit here,” they said.

“Whatever,” grumbled Enjolras, going to the front.

“Who lives in The Hugo Apartments?” Asked the black haired teacher at the front of the bus.

Half of the students raised their arms and he could see the teacher hold back a sigh. “You, you, you, you, and you,” she said, pointing to some students. “You’re going to bus fifteen.”

There was a shuffle as the student got out of the bus and by the time everyone has settled down all the seats were taken and Enjolras and Courfeyrac were standing in the middle of the bus. “Why did you stand up?” Asked Courfeyrac, exparted.

“What was I supposed to do?’ Hissed the blond. “They said the teacher told them to go back.”

“Chloe and Axel come here,” said the teacher, directing two kids to the front. “You can sit here,” she said to Courfeyrac and Enjolras, with a nod at the empty seats before slipping into a seat of her own

The moment they took their seats, the bus started moving and Grantaire settled back in his seat, plugging in his headphones but not playing anything. He lived to eavesdrop on Enjolras and his friends.

The bus exited the school, driving along an abandoned landscape that had smoke rising from it. “That’s where the school’s management should go,” said a seventh grader, nodding at the smoking land.

“It should,” laughed Enjolras, joined by Courfeyrac.

They continued the rest of the ride joking around and complaining about the bus management, and Grantaire had to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling when Courfeyrac, Enjolras and Combeferre -who had gone to site beside his friends after the first student was dropped off- started making bets about where the bus would go first.

                                                                                      . . .

“When will the bus come tomorrow?” He asked the teacher, hovering before the open bus door. He was supposed to go down, but he wanted to make sure when the bus will come tomorrow. With the new students and everything, there will surely be a change in schedule.

“Your usual bus will pick you up tomorrow,” said the teacher, but the driver shook his head.

“I’m picking you up tomorrow,” he said. “Only you, though, the others will go with the old bus.”

“Oh okay,” he said and got off.

When the front door slammed shut behind him he threw his bag across the hall, barely holding himself from letting out a frustrated cry, he didn’t want to risk waking his father.

Why did they have to change his bus? He’s been in it the whole year, why change it at the last week of school? He could see Enjolras and his friends laughing and joking around everyday till the last day of school, occasionally getting into debates about recent political movements that always turned into heated arguments and tried to ignore the bang in his chest as he made his way upstairs to his room.

                                                                                   . . .

“Why didn’t you come in the morning?”

Grantaire looked up from his locker to see Enjolras standing standing beside him, his backpack slung casually over his shoulder. “They changed my bus,” he said, taking out his Chemistry book. The halls were filled with chattering students that were making their way to their classes, but Grantaire felt like they were the only two there.

“Is that a permanent thing?” Asked Enjolras, and he had to bite back a smile that bloomed from the feeling of satisfaction spreading through his chest. Was the blond truly upset over that? Upset over him?

“I guess? I mean it’s not like we have much left for the summer holiday, only a week, not counting today.”

“True,” said Enjolras. “So, ugh, I was wondering if I could have your number? Seeing that it's the end of the year and everything.” Added Enjolras quickly.

Grantaire grinned. “Of course. Here,” he took out a sharpie and traced his digits on Enjolras’s forearm.

                                                                                      . . .

Later that night, when Grantaire was clicking away on his phone, it rang. It was an unregistered number, but he knew who it was and picked up.

“Hey,” said Enjolras the moment he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Hey,” he answered, grinning like a fool while thanking the gods he didn’t believe in that Enjolras couldn't see him.

“So, I was wondering if you want to grab some coffee tomorrow? There is this good place that I know. ThoughIunderstandifyoucan’t,” he rushed. “It’s oka-“

“I’m free tomorrow,” he said, cutting the blond short, “eight p.m?”

He could practically hear Enjolras’s smile. “Eight is good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in the span of two hours, so please don't judge.  
> .  
> You can anonymously submit prompts on [@enjolraire-is-canon](https://enjoltaire-is-canon.tumblr.com/%22)  
> 


End file.
